


Icarus

by serendippindots



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, I made myself sad, Izumi is their daughter, Mai Angst, Past Aang/Katara (Avatar), Water Tribe Ambassador, Zutara, life sucks, maiko, zuko and mai are married but at what cost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:06:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendippindots/pseuds/serendippindots
Summary: Fire Lord Zuko's managed to save the world from his father and usher in a new era of peace after the Hundred Year War, but he can't seem to manage to save his marriage with Mai. One-shot (imported from FFN).





	Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a hot while since I've written any sort of fanfiction, but I recently discovered the Zutara ship a couple of months ago and decided why not. Had this idea in my head for a while now and just had to get it out there. I love the Zutara ship but have also always had a soft spot for Mai, so writing about her and getting into her mind was super fun. I hope y'all enjoy reading!

“Will you tell me a story?”

Mai looks at her daughter—their _daughter,_ she chides herself—as she begins to pull the covers and tuck her into bed. Izumi’s golden eyes flash pleadingly at her, her upper lip pulling into a pout as Mai hesitates.

“It’s late,” Mai starts weakly, but Izumi’s eyes glaze over with the faintest beginnings of tears and Agni, is that the key to Mai’s heart. No matter her struggles to maintain her tough and emotionless façade, when it comes to Izumi, even her most carefully constructed defenses falter. Those amber eyes— _so much like his_ —would be the death of her, she knew. Izumi could just give her a _look_ and Mai would be instantly entranced; she would gladly give her the entire world, if she wished. And so she finds herself pausing in her nightly routine and instead gently sitting onto Izumi’s bed, looking fondly upon her daughter.

She ruffles her daughter’s dark hair— _almost as long as his_ —and watches Izumi’s face immediately light up, as any semblance of tears vanish in a heartbeat. “Okay,” she agrees, smiling softly at her daughter’s joyous reaction. “What about?”

“The story you were telling last night,” Izumi insists. “I forgot all about it, but I remember that it was good.”

Mai laughs. “How can you remember that it was good if you can’t even remember it?”

“Well, you were telling it, and you tell good stories,” Izumi grumbles, her golden eyes flashing indignantly. “And you didn’t finish it, either,” she adds, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest for good measure, “so I want to hear the whole thing.”

Mai runs her hands through her daughter’s hair, absentmindedly braiding it as she goes along, not heeding Izumi’s cries of complaint. “It’s not a happy story, Izumi.”

“I don’t care.”

“But—”

“I’m not a child! It’s not like I’ll be scared of sad stories.” Izumi kicks the covers off of her as a sign of defiance— _they even share the same temper_ —as she puffs out her chest, holding her chin high in determination.

“Izumi, you’re only six.”

“I don’t care!” Izumi repeats, a little louder this time. She stares her mother down with fire smoldering in her golden eyes, her face wrinkled into a scowl, as if directly challenging her. The challenge is useless, Mai already knows. Izumi always wins.

She takes a deep breath in resignation. “Okay, but if your father comes in here, then we have to stop, okay?”

“Okay!” Izumi bursts into a smile and hurriedly pulls the blankets back over herself, even though the Fire Nation’s much too hot for the covers, especially in the warm months. Her eyes land on her, waiting expectantly for her mother to start.

Mai takes in a deep breath. “Once, in the ancient times, in the ancient lands, there lived a man,” she starts in a soft tone.

“Wow, a man,” Izumi parrots sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Mai playfully flicks the back of her head, and Izumi giggles.

“Ow!”

“His name was Daedalus, master inventor, creator of all things thought impossible. He lived in Athens, and people knew him from all over the world. His creations were genius, his intellect unchallenged, as it far surpassed everyone else’s.”

“So like Uncle Sokka?”

Mai snorts. “Unlike Daedalus, your Uncle Sokka isn’t the smartest man in the world.”

“But he builds things, right? Him and Aunt Katara, don’t they work together to rebuild the Southern Water Tribe?” Izumi asks innocently.

A chill snakes down her spine. Hearing _her_ name is like a stab to the gut, and Mai momentarily freezes as unwelcome memories flash by. Memories of _her_ , memories of _her_ with _him_ —

“Mom?”

Izumi’s voice snaps her out of her daze as she refocuses on her daughter. “Yes, that’s right,” she says, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Daedalus was an engineer like your Uncle Sokka.

“Anyway, Daedalus was always the most skilled, and he took pride in his innovations. Too much pride, perhaps, as his nephew, Talos, was also a very skilled engineer, who came up with his own inventions alongside him. One day, Talos created the saw, something Daedalus had never thought of before. It provided a variety of practical benefits, and people heralded him as the ‘second Daedalus,’ while others even put him higher than Daedalus himself. In a jealous rage, Daedalus took his own nephew—his own blood—and threw him off the highest place of all of Athens.”

“So he killed his own nephew?” Izumi asks, eyes as round as saucers.

“Yes, little one. In his envy, he ended up destroying his own kin,” Mai says gravely, highlighting the depravity of such an act. _Like_ his _father_. “Before long, him and his son, Icarus, were banished from Athens, forced to wander the Earth for another home.”

“Who took them in?”

“The island of Crete, a beautiful place, filled with beaches where the ocean swallows the sun every night and mountains that could rival those in the Air Nation.”

“Is it like Ember Island?”

“Well…maybe not the mountains part, but the beaches, surely. Daedalus and Icarus travelled to Crete and begged for shelter, for any place to call home, after months of endless travel. Fortunately, the king, King Minos, after much deliberation, agreed to let them stay—”

“What does ‘dee-lee-burr-ay-shun’ mean?” Izumi interrupts, scrunching up her face and enunciating each syllable. Mai smiles softly, pausing the story.

“Thinking, Izumi. After much thinking and consideration, King Minos decided to let them stay in Crete, and there, Daedalus swore to build himself a new life.”

“But he doesn’t, right? Everyone who says that always goes through something bad,” Izumi chirps, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Hey, I thought you forgot how it’s going to end,” Mai protests playfully. “But yes, it’s not a happy story, and there’s no happy ending. It’s only a matter of time until Daedalus found himself into trouble again.

“Daedalus was famous for his machines, and he ended up inventing more gadgets while in Crete as well. Much how like benders are drawn to their bending, Daedalus was drawn to creation. It was his art form, his way of expression. Knowing this, King Minos called him up for help.”

“Help what?”

“Quit interrupting and you might find out,” Mai deadpans, looking at her daughter straight in the eyes. Izumi only laughs, immediately cracking Mai’s attempts at a stone-cold face. She could never be angry at Izumi, not for long. “But there was a monstrous beast on the peaceful island of Crete. The locals called it the Minotaur, for he was half-man, half-beast. He was a horrendous creature, an animal driven only by hate and a desire for blood. Knowing Daedalus’ incredible engineering feats, King Minos ordered him to design an enormous, winding maze for the beast, called the Labyrinth.”

“Was it to hide the Minotaur away from everyone else?” Izumi asks.

“Not exactly,” Mai admits. “It’s much more gruesome than that. In order to satiate the Minotaur’s terrible hunger, King Minos was forced to sacrifice seven young men and seven young women to the beast every nine years. The maze was so that the sacrifices wouldn’t find their way out.”

“That’s awful!” Izumi exclaims, bristling. “What kind of ruler does that to their people?”

 _Your grandfather,_ Mai thinks darkly, but doesn’t dare utter her thoughts out loud. “A bad one,” she manages to get out.

“Not like the Fire Nation at all,” Izumi continues proudly. “My father’s the best leader around!”

Mai thinks her heart might shatter completely, but she stiffens her upper lip before Izumi can see it tremble.

“Yeah,” she croaks, steeling her heart. Something she’s gotten awfully good at over the years. “Your father.” She switches the topic immediately, anything to get back to the story. “On the day of the sacrifice, King Minos sent Theseus, a handsome young man, among the seven boys to be fed to the Minotaur. However, Ariadne, the king’s daughter, fell madly in love with Theseus, and would stop at nothing to save him from his fate. Running to Daedalus, the beautiful princess begged him to find a way to save Theseus’ life. As cunning as Daedalus is, he found a simple solution—he gave Theseus a ball of yarn, telling him to let it drop as he travels within the maze so that he can retrace his steps.”

Izumi gasps. “That’s so smart! I don’t know if even Uncle Sokka would’ve thought of that.”

“Don’t sell your Uncle Sokka short,” Mai warns, “but it was intelligent, indeed. Theseus heeded Daedalus’ words and used the ball of yarn, eventually finding the Minotaur within the Labyrinth. Instead of backing down, our hero slew the beast, and using the yarn, he found his way back out of the maze instead of wandering aimlessly about, and him and Ariadne fled Crete, knowing that King Minos would be furious.”

“But what about Dead-lass?” Izumi presses. “What happened to him? He helped The-ses too!”

“Dead-duh-less,” Mai corrects, “and The-see-is. And yes, I’m about to get to that.” Izumi squirms in her bed, completely enraptured in the tale.

“Furious at Theseus and Ariadne’s escape, King Minos turned to Daedalus and punished him for aiding Theseus by locking him and his son, Icarus, in the Labyrinth, stationing his guards around the maze to ensure that they wouldn’t escape.”

“But they’ll die!” Izumi exclaims, horrified.

“That’s what King Minos intended.”

“But that’s cruel!”

Mai shrugs. “I told you, this isn’t a happy story.” Izumi opens her mouth, but no retort comes out. “But, remember Daedalus’ intellect,” Mai continues, watching Izumi perk up. “Knowing that he couldn’t escape through land or sea, he turned to the only other place available.”

“What did he do?”

Mai points upwards. “The sky,” she answers. “He turned to the sky, the only place where he could escape.”

Izumi’s eyes widen. “Did he fly?” she breathes, struck by wonder.

Mai nods. “He did. Our master inventor found feathers, wax, and twine, and fashioned wings out of them, connecting them with the wax. Working day and night, he quickly made large wings for both himself and Icarus, desperate to leave the maze before starvation and thirst set in. Finally, once they were done, Daedalus tried on his own wings, seeing if they worked.”

“Did they work?”

“That they did. In that moment, Daedalus had mastered something all humans have ever dreamed of—the power of flight.”

“Wow.” For once, Izumi had no words. A pause. “Do you think we’ll see people fly?”

Mai thinks for a moment. “Ask your Uncle Sokka.” Izumi sticks out her tongue.

“So did Dead-lass and Icky-rest end up flying out of the maze?” Izumi says after a moment, prompting Mai back to the story.

“Yes, they did. They took off in the dead of the night so that the guards wouldn’t see them, but before they flew, Daedalus demanded his son fly right behind him, and not to fly too high or low, for if he flew too high, the wax would melt by the heat of the sun, and if he flew too low, the ocean would swallow him into its depths.

“And so they flew, passing by the sleeping guards, leaving the island of Crete and its monstrosities behind. They flew towards a brighter, hopeful future, free of their struggles; they flew towards a place where they could, once again, start over. Unfortunately, as they flew—”

A knock on the door silences Mai, and she immediately stands up, straightening her back as she does. Her eyes shift to the door.

She knows exactly who it is.

The door creaks open, revealing Zuko, clad in his Fire Lord royal robes, his headpiece just slightly askew. His robes, typically clean and perfectly in place, are wrinkled; his top-knot is loose, allowing his long hair to frame his face more than usual. The bags underneath his eyes seem to grow more prominent with every passing day. He looks…tired, as expected. Another long day of Fire Lord duties, Mai suspected. But when was Zuko not caught up in his duties.

“Dad!” Izumi jumps out of bed and hugs her father, and Zuko, startled, quickly bends down to embrace her.

“Hey, kid,” he laughs, his golden eyes glimmering with amusement. “How’s it going?”

“Great! Master Heo showed me some more characters that I couldn’t write properly, and Master Shadin taught me more about the Fire Nation’s history underneath Fire Lord Ozai.” Izumi shudders a bit at this. “He was such a monster,” she spits, anger creasing her brow. “I don’t understand how someone could be so cruel.”

“I don’t, either,” Zuko answers gravely. “But his reign is over now, and we have to pick up the pieces.” Izumi only nods. “What else?”

Izumi beams. “Oh, Master Jeong Jeong also taught me some more advanced firebending moves today, and not even he could catch up to me! I was running circles around the old man, kicking like this…” Izumi swings her right leg in a roundhouse kick, nearly clocking Zuko in the face. He deftly dodges out of the way, smiling.

“Hey, watch it,” he admonishes, but with no real bite. “And don’t call him old. Master Jeong Jeong is still one of the strongest firebenders in the world.”

“Yeah, well, doesn’t change that he’s still old,” Izumi retorts.

“Master Jeong Jeong was my master, too,” Zuko reminds her, “and if he hears that you called him ‘old,’ he’d have my head.”

“But you’re the Fire Lord!”

“Elders still demand respect,” Zuko counters.

Izumi slumps. “I guess so.” Suddenly, she jolts upwards. “Don’t tell Master Jeong Jeong that I called him old, okay?”

Zuko laughs, holding up his hands. “Okay, okay. I won’t. Promise.”

“Pinky?”

“Pinky.” Izumi extends her pinky, and Zuko curls his own around hers, solidifying the promise.

“Oh! And mom was telling me a story!” Izumi adds excitedly, looking back at Mai, who desperately tries to keep her face neutral. Zuko stands and looks across the room, finally resting his gaze on Mai.

She hates the butterflies that his amber eyes still give her.

“Is that so?” he asks, keeping his focus steadily on Mai. “What story?”

Before Mai can respond, Izumi quickly pipes up. “Dead-lass and Icky-rest!”

“Dead-lass and Icky-rest?” Zuko echoes, confused.

“Daedalus and Icarus,” Mai says quietly, clearing the confusion.

“Oh, that ancient Greek myth.” Zuko furrows his brow slightly. “Why that one?”

Mai opens her mouth to retort, but Izumi speaks before she can say anything. “Mom, you didn’t finish the story! We were on the part where they were flying, and then—”

“Later, Izumi,” Mai cuts in coldly, unable to tear her gaze away from Zuko’s. _A little too loud,_ she realizes, upon seeing Izumi wince. “It’s late.”

She wonders when it ever got so tense.

Zuko’s the first to break away, nudging Izumi. “Come on, Izumi,” he urges, guiding her back to her bed. Glancing nervously at both her mother and father, Izumi tentatively shuffles back to her bed, throwing the covers back on herself before Mai can properly tuck her in.

“Goodnight, mom,” Izumi tries to say cheerfully, but Mai catches the hitch in her voice, and a pang of guilt threatens to breach the surface.

_We can’t even pretend._

“Goodnight, little one,” Mai says softly, desperately mustering as much of a smile as possible. She breathes a sigh of relief when her daughter smiles back.

She can feel Zuko’s gaze boring into her skin.

Bowing to Zuko, Mai casts her eyes downwards as she makes her way out, purposefully avoiding meeting his eyes. She doesn’t know what she’ll see in those golden eyes, the same ones that had once promised her the entire world. Or perhaps she’s afraid of what she’ll see. The tension suffocates her, screaming at both parties to be addressed. Mai remains quiet.

But Zuko breaks it with a sledgehammer.

“Katara arrives soon.”

Mai freezes mid-step.

It’s spoken in a low, quiet tone, obviously only meant for Mai to hear. “For her Ambassador duties,” Zuko clarifies, speaking a little more quickly. It’s fast. Too fast. “Mai…be nice, okay?”

Her veins run ice-cold and in that moment, Mai wishes she still had her stilettos on her.

Digging her nails into her palms, she balls her fists until her knuckles turn white. She opens her mouth but decides to hold her tongue—there’ll be no sharp-tongued retort this time. Not today. It’s not worth it. Swallowing, she clamps her mouth shut and continues to walk, praying that her legs don’t shake. Praying that she turns back into the pristine, emotionless Fire Lady that her nation expects her to be, into her apathetic exterior. To make it seem as if nothing fazes her, that she’s just the big “blah” as Zuko had described her so many years before.

She waits until turning the corner before breaking out into a run, her heels clicking against the wooden floors, echoing against the freshly painted red walls. Zuko’s portrait hangs in every hall in the seemingly endless red maze; everywhere is a reminder of the current Fire Lord, loved by all the Fire Nation. She runs past the Royal Servants and bodyguards, all making way for the esteemed Fire Lady as she flies through the halls of the palace. Her feet are taking her to a place unknown as her brain short-circuits, and her heart, her heart’s pounding so loudly she thinks it’s about to explode out of her chest. There’s nothing but pure instinct telling her to _run,_ run as far and as fast as she can, somewhere away from the crushing reminders of _Zuko_ and _her_ — _her,_ most of all. Something rolls down her cheeks, and only as she brings a hand up to swipe it off does she realize that she’s crying.

Later, rumor in the palace was that the Fire Lady had finally cracked.

It was the first time anyone outside of Zuko had seen her cry.

***

She finds herself in the palace courtyard.

It’s a beautiful garden, though nothing short of perfection should be expected from the Royal Palace. The garden’s dotted with fire lilies, with most of them in bloom during the warm summer months. Weeping willows droop over the main pond, providing shade and protection against the sun’s strong rays. Turtle ducks happily swim around, chorusing in a swell of quacks. Cicadas buzz all around her, adding some serenity to an already peaceful backdrop. The moon shows her pretty face today, illuminating the garden and shedding light onto Mai’s reflection in the water.

Sitting by the edge of the pond, her feet dangle in the water, aimlessly splashing about, sending ripples throughout her reflection. She studies her image in the ever-changing pool. Her hair’s unruly, with her typical neat double buns almost completely freed from their constraints. Her bangs, always so neat, are mussed up, the sweat allowing them to stubbornly cling to her face. The only thing she can thank Agni for is her lack of mascara. She really didn’t want to see that running down her face, too.

_Be nice, okay?_

Mai clasps her right hand around a rock nearby the pond, squeezing it tightly.

 _What a fucked up timeline she was living in_ , she muses, resisting the urge to chuck the rock as far as possible, _in which my husband tells me to be nice to his side-chick._

Katara…what to think about her. Katara, one of the only remaining waterbenders, and arguably the most powerful waterbender in the world. Katara, strong-willed and independent, originally the Avatar’s “forever girl” who cast aside that label after always feeling in his shadow. Once the Avatar’s trusty sidekick, but now the Ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe, always on the move and negotiating peace treaties and diplomatic meetings, helping keep the peace after the Hundred Year War.

Katara, the woman who Zuko had fallen in love with.

Mai wasn’t an idiot. No matter how much he tried to suppress his own feelings, she could read Zuko like a book. She had, after all, known him all her life. She knew that sometime, while journeying with the Avatar, Zuko had fallen in love with the waterbender.

At first she didn’t want to accept it. After the final Agni Kai between him and Azula, Mai, giddy with excitement, believed that they could go back to normal, without his psychotic sister interrupting their relationship. She believed that this was the true start of Zuko—a young, respected Fire Lord, determined to fix his father’s mistakes, and that she would remain by his side every step of the way. They were childhood crushes, after all, and had loved each other for years. Zuko had even made her a proposal ring: a beautiful gold band with a bright, engraved ruby in the center. It was only right.

But she had noticed the strength of Zuko’s bonds with Team Avatar. She saw him, Aang, and Sokka play pranks on each other, while bantering with Toph. She saw him spar with Suki, using their weapons only instead of a traditional bending spar. And finally, she saw him with Katara, as he showed her every part of the Fire Nation. She saw them talk to Fire Nation citizens together, regardless of class, and attend festivals together for hours on end, enjoying each other’s company. Rumors of the Painted Lady and the Blue Spirit quickly spread through the Lower Ring, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

But she had remained comforted in the fact that Katara was with the Avatar. The Avatar had always made this clear with his goofy declarations of love, or simple public displays of affection. She was his, and he was hers, it seemed. She was his “forever girl,” and he would never let anyone forget that. Katara was always going to be with Aang.

So it was a shock, to say the least, when Katara had stumbled into the Fire Nation one day, announcing that she had parted ways with the Avatar.

 _I don’t know what my destiny is anymore,_ she had confessed to both Mai and Zuko upon her arrival. _I always thought that I was supposed to be with the Avatar, but now that that’s done…_

Zuko had pulled her into a tight, comforting embrace. _Don’t worry,_ he had mumbled. _I’ll do whatever I can to help you._

And that he did. Before long, he had bestowed upon Katara the title of Ambassador, allowing her to explore the world and promote peace among the four nations. It had aligned perfectly with her moral compass—Katara had a strong sense of justice, and spearheading the Ambassador program to protect world peace was right up her alleyway.

And even though she was busy on missions, she never failed to make time to stop by the Fire Nation, spending a couple of days or whatever she could spare with Zuko. Every time she announced her arrival, Zuko’s entire demeanor changed. There was a bounce in his step, or his eyes would shimmer, or he would laugh more. He looked forward to every day instead of typically dreading his endless Fire Lord duties. When she would arrive, he would excuse himself from his duties, instead leaving Mai, the Fire Lady, in charge of overseeing the Fire Nation’s politics.

 _“Mai, it’s_ Katara _,”_ he had pleaded. _“We saved the world together. You know how much that entire group means to me.”_ And Mai would always concede defeat.

Because Zuko was always her weakness.

And Mai knew that underneath their friendly interactions was something deeper. Something more intense. She would be a fool not to see it.

 _“I love you, you know,”_ she had heard him say softly to the waterbender while hiding behind a corner in the palace the last time she visited, and in that moment, she finally understood how people could die from a broken heart.

And he knows. He knows that she knows, yet they never address it. Because Mai’s _terrified_. She’s terrified that if she addresses it, she’ll lose him.

Even though he’s in love with another woman, she’ll still always love him. She had clung to Zuko like a burr, and now there was no way off.

Absentmindedly, Mai fiddles with her proposal ring, taking it off her finger. The ruby, once a deep crimson, has dulled significantly, losing much of its original glint. The gold’s chipped away from frequent wear, and the sheen rubbed off quite quickly after she had accepted his proposal. It’s definitely seen better days.

Mai slowly clenches her hand into a fist, imprinting the shape of the ring into her palm as she debates flinging it into the pond.

She wants to hate. She wants to hate Katara with every fiber of her being. But how can she, when they’re both guilty of the same crime? How can she blame her, when she’s also in love with Zuko?

And she knows Zuko. She knows he cares deeply for her, and that he never intended on hurting her. He’s as determined to make their marriage work, even if his heart belongs to another woman, not just for the sake of the nation, but for Mai’s sake, too. As Fire Lord, whatever he says is law. He could very easily divorce Mai and take Katara instead. She knows that he’s sacrificing his own desires to stay with her.

But it still hurts when he chooses to sleep in a different bedroom from her every night.

And she knows that deep down, Zuko really did love her. She remembers their past dates, before the Hundred Year War resolved, when it was just him and her against the world. She remembers looking into his golden eyes and knowing that his gaze was reserved just for her. She remembers being ten again, falling victim to Azula’s antics and attempts to set her and Zuko up. She remembers their quarrels on Ember Island, fighting furiously just to end up in each other’s arms again by the end of the night.

She remembers too much. She clings on to too much.

She could never hate Zuko. Perhaps that’s what hurts most of all.

A turtle duck swims up to her, quacking softly. Reaching out a hand, she gently scratches the top of its head, and it quacks happily.

_“Hey, mom, do you want to see how Azula feeds turtle ducks?”_

Sighing, she looks upwards at the sky. There are no stars tonight, but she does notice the full moon, only slightly covered by a few wispy clouds.

 _A full moon_ , she thinks drily. _How ironic._ She would laugh at the timing if she wasn’t so miserable.

“…They flew towards a brighter, hopeful future, free of their struggles; they flew towards a place where they could, once again, start over,” Mai whispers to herself in the garden, recounting Izumi’s story. “Unfortunately, as they flew, Icarus grew more and more excited and failed to heed his father’s words. In his wonder, he flew too high, too close to the sun, and the wax began to melt, sending him plummeting to his downfall.”

She hopes no one can hear her voice break.

Despite its tragic nature, Mai had always been fond of the tale of Daedalus and Icarus.

Like Icarus, she, too, had flown too close to the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Oof it really has been a while but I'm excited to get back into the swing of things. It's summer, so I hope I can crank out some more stories. Maybe incorporate even more classical mythology? We'll see. Thanks for reading.


End file.
